


Know Who You Are

by deciding



Series: Heavy Ceiling [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotp, Developing Friendships, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Post-2x12, Post-2x13, Pre-2x12, Pre-2x13, Sweet Pea definitely ships Bughead, SweetBee, SweetBee brOTP, friendship fic, post-2x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-03-15 20:50:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13621416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deciding/pseuds/deciding
Summary: With matching grins, like they’d found common ground and had broken bread together, Betty and Sweet Pea bumped fists.





	1. Do You Know Who You Are?

**Author's Note:**

> Hugs and gratitude to theatreofexpression, who talked me into this, and then talked me through this.

It all started in Chemistry class. 

Betty arrived in Dr. Beaker’s classroom a few minutes after the bell, blonde ponytail still swishing behind her in time with the click of her suede booties against the industrial tile of the floor. She’d finished copyediting each piece for the next edition of _The Blue & Gold_ the night before. She spent her lunch period putting the finishing touches on the newspaper layout before sending it off to the printer so copies could be distributed to the student body the next morning. Deadline day always found her going a few minutes over lunch, with a granola bar in hand, as the master file was propagated to the printer’s secure server. As Riverdale’s most bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, Principal Weatherbee had pre-signed some tardy slips for her back in September when she’d restarted the school newspaper. They were most handy on deadline days. 

Dr. Beaker didn’t even give the small slip of paper a second glance when Betty held it out to him, just tossed it on his desk and smiled satisfactorily. “Ah, Miss Cooper, I’m glad you have arrived. You gave Martin quite a scare - I think he was beginning to worry he’d be partnered with _me_ all semester.” 

“Uh, Martin?” 

As the head officer of the Riverdale High School Welcome Committee, Betty was first to receive notification of new students. She hadn’t gotten any notification of anyone named Martin. 

“The tall young man in the white turtleneck.” Dr. Beaker gestured toward the middle of the room. “I believe you know him, yes?” 

Betty’s gaze followed Dr. Beaker’s outstretched arm to the only student at a two-person lab bench who wasn’t seated next to someone else. Martin couldn’t be anyone else. Even sitting on a lab bench stool, he was tall. His turtleneck served as an undershirt to the Weatherbee-sanctioned navy golf polo with the Riverdale High varsity-style ‘R’ over the breast pocket. Dark hair crushed under the elastic band of his safety goggles and bored brown eyes, staring blankly at the poster chart of SI units in the left corner of the room above Ethel’s shoulder, was Martin. And Martin was the teen Southside Serpent better known as Sweet Pea. 

Martin—Sweet Pea—was a new transfer student, one of the Southside High transferees. Betty hadn’t gotten a list of their names. When the Riverdale High student body received the announcement that the high school on the other side of town had been shut down, immediately providing Betty with the front page story for the latest _Blue & Gold_ issue, Veronica had volunteered to organize her own version of a welcome wagon for their new peers. Betty had kept out of it. Because it wasn’t just the cover article and an AP World History project that had been on her plate; her efforts for the better part of the last week had been spent tracking down her brother. 

Behind Sweet Pea were Jughead and Toni. The two of them sported the same uniform as Sweet Pea and they looked to have already begun their experiment. Betty did a quick scan of the room and the rest of her classmates, all from the north side of town, were paired up. Of course. 

Surely, she thought, the universe looked down and laughed at her. She’d missed the first ten minutes of class to send off an article about how the students from Southside High deserved to be given the benefit of the doubt, welcomed with open minds rather than prejudiced against, and just her luck, she’d cost herself the opportunity to select her own lab partner (it would have Kevin, who was at the front of the room partnered with Trev). And as luck had it, her semester would be full of the one Serpent she _did_ have prejudice against because of what he’d done to someone she cared for. Jughead shouldn’t have told her about running the gauntlet the night after the race against Malachi when she’d stayed at the trailer, when he’d revealed his new tattoo. But he did anyway, so Betty knew all about Sweet Pea’s brass knuckles that hadn’t missed the cheek of her ex-boyfriend’s face. 

With a sigh and a nod of her head, Betty flashed a tight smile to Dr. Beaker. “Right. Okay.” 

With her thumbs hooked into the shoulder straps of her backpack, Betty made her way over to her waiting seat. Jughead looked up from his lab notebook as she approached. He didn’t smile at her but the doleful look in his blue eyes spoke volumes. Betty tore her gaze from his just before she hopped onto her stool. 

“Sweet Pea,” she spoke to her new lab partner in acknowledgement. 

Betty was only halfway through unpacking her notebook and pencil case from her bag before a loose leaf of copy paper was slid in her direction. 

“I did the inventory check already,” was the first thing Sweet Pea said to Betty. “You just have to initial and then we can start.” 

“Oh,” Betty answered with surprise. 

She was used to taking charge and being relied on for her organization skills, which in most cases meant all the real work was left for her. She never would have taken Sweet Pea for someone who would actually do what he’d been tasked with ahead of time instead of waiting for her to do everything, but she digressed: it wasn’t fair for her to write about not being judgemental toward new Southside High kids in the school paper and then let her own preconceived notions cloud her judgement. Even if Sweet Pea had punched Jughead in the face. 

Betty slid open the bottom drawer of the lab bench and placed her backpack next to Sweet Pea’s stuff—a bottle of water and his own backpack, held together by safety pins and duct tape—with care to make sure their belongings didn’t touch. She looked over the piece of paper he’d slid in front of her and saw the list of equipment housed in the top drawer of the bench they were supposed to be responsible for over the duration of the semester. The list was checked off with the quantity of the items listed in all the right columns. Sweet Pea’s real name was in bold, capital letters at the top of the page over one line: _Martin de Guzman_. His penmanship was neater than Betty expected—not that she had expectations of any kind from Sweet Pea. The empty line next to his name awaited her own, along with the three spaces for initials to ensure they’d both verified there were no cracks in their glassware, understood they were “responsible” for the integrity of their equipment, and were aware there was a $20 replacement fee if the key to the equipment drawer was not returned at the end of the semester. 

Only after doing her own inventory check did Betty add her own name and initials to Dr. Beaker’s form in blue ink. 

“You don’t trust me, blondie?” Sweet Pea snorted. 

“It’s _Betty_ ,” she shot back, “and I’m not questioning your work. I’m just…thorough.” 

Did she trust Sweet Pea? Well, that depended on what the context was. He was an all-in-one juxtaposition. She didn’t trust that he wouldn’t beat the shit out of someone if his buttons were pushed the right way. She trusted that he, along with Toni and Fangs, had kept Jughead safe over the last month on the south side of town. 

When Betty moved the checklist to the corner of their benchtop, Sweet Pea had another monotone question for her, “Satisfied?” 

“Have you read over the lab assignment?” Betty asked a question of her own. “We’re supposed to—” 

“We’ll verify that the boiling point of water is at or near 100 degrees Celsius by boiling a flask filled with water over a gas flame,” Sweet Pea cut her off with a quick summary. He then used his pen as a pointing stick as he listed off the items cluttered on their benchtop, “Erlenmeyer Flask with deionized water. Thermometer. Ring and stand for the flask. Bunsen burner waiting to be lit. Striker to light it.” 

“Wow, Sweet Pea,” Betty answered. “You have everything in place.” 

“I cook a lot. It’s just like getting a pot of water ready to pour over my cup of noodles,” Sweet Pea shared as he put on the pair of gloves in front of him, letting the stretchy material snap at his wrists, then added with snark, “and I do come with a brain, you know.” 

Betty raised her hands in surrender and looked her lab partner in the eye for the first time. “I was not suggesting otherwise. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry.” 

Sweet Pea shrugged it off too easily, Betty noted, like he was all too used to being written off. “You want to hand me that tubing for the Bunsen burner?” 

Betty slipped on the soft nitrile gloves and safety goggles, the last untouched items in front of her, before handing Sweet Pea his requested item. The gas nozzle was on his side of their lab bench. While Sweet Pea attached the tubing to the burner and then the nozzle, Betty picked up the striker in anticipation of what would be his next request. He adjusted the airflow valve in the bottom compartment of the burner before holding his hand out for the striker, like a mechanic being handed tools by an apprentice. 

Before Sweet Pea could get a grip on the rusty metal, Betty pulled the striker back, which left him to grasp at thin air. 

“Sweet Pea, wait,” Betty burst out. 

He huffed. “Now what?” 

Betty pointed at the goggles snug against his forehead like decoration. “Put your goggles on.” 

“Christ Almighty,” Sweet Pea muttered as he pulled the plastic goggles down to cover his eyes. “Do you plan on being as annoying as Jones this whole time?” 

Behind them, a throat cleared purposefully loud. “Uh, I’m not deaf back here, Sweet Pea.” 

The corners of Betty’s mouth upturned into a slight smile but she didn’t turn around to acknowledge Jughead’s familiar voice. She and Sweet Pea were already behind as a result of her excused tardiness. Their flask of water hadn’t even begun to heat yet. If she turned around and let herself be distracted by Jughead, it could be disastrous. She held the striker out to Sweet Pea again and smirked. “ _Safety first_.” 

“Excellent sentiment, Miss Cooper,” Dr. Beaker butted into the conversation, standing in the space between the lab benches. He addressed the only other Serpent in the room Betty hadn’t interacted with that day, “Miss Topaz, you need to tie your back.” 

“Dude, we’re boiling water,” Toni replied indignantly. “My hair’s not gonna catch on fire.” 

“You’ve got an open flame in front of you,” Dr. Beaker reminded Toni. “Do you really want to take that chance?” 

“I don’t have anything to tie my hair back with,” Toni replied and defensively crossed her arms over her chest. 

“If you don’t come prepared,” Dr. Beaker went on, “you’ll have to leave the class for the day. Perhaps you can sit in the library until your next class.” 

“ _What_?” Jughead interjected into the conversation with narrowed eyes. “Come on, Dr. Beaker, it’s the first day of lab, and not even a real one.” 

“This is a heaping load of crap,” Sweet Pea agreed. 

Without words, Betty slowly turned around and watched Jughead and his friends from the wrong side of the tracks. They’d already lost their school and swallowed down their pride; they had traded in their leather jackets for preppy polos and khakis even Kevin wouldn’t want to wear. She saw the righteous indignation both Jughead and Sweet Pea shared for Toni, at risk of missing easy lab points for the crime of having her beautiful pink hair frame her face in messy waves. 

On a different day, at a different time, maybe Betty would have been jealous of Toni, for having not one but two teen gang members ready to fall at her feet in her defense. Especially when one of those gang members was Jughead, who kept pushing Betty away, who’d broken up with her to maintain his solidarity with the Serpents. 

Since Jughead had begun to delve in deeper with the Serpents, Betty had begun to feel more and more alone. She wondered if it was how Jughead had felt all those years, bullied and picked on. And it wasn’t like Betty had lost any bare necessities. She hadn’t even missed a step socially. Her family was still upper middle-class. She was still a cheerleader. The boy next door was still her best friend. She’d even gained a brother in Chic when she peppersprayed his landlord and brought him home to _Chez Cooper_. 

But Betty felt the void left by the distance Jughead had put between them. She felt something was missing. She felt alone. And if what she felt was even a fraction of what Jughead had felt before, from elementary school up to his father’s arrest, she was glad he felt that less with the likes of Toni and Sweet Pea to back him up. She was even glad Toni was Jughead’s lab partner, and not Ginger or Tina like in Biology. 

Betty hopped off her stool and gingerly removed her gloves before opening the bottom drawer where she’d stashed her bag before she’d settled into her lab station. She unzipped the front pocket and felt around until her fingers ran over velvety material. She trapped it in her fist before kicking the drawer shut, drawing the attention of the Serpents and the teacher. With her free hand, Betty snatched up the checklist she’d earlier moved to the corner of the benchtop and turned back around. 

She held the checklist out to the teacher with a bright smile plastered on her face. “Here you go, Dr. Beaker.” 

The teacher’s gaze shifted focus from Toni to Betty as he accepted the page and placed it at the top of his growing stack. “Thank you, Betty.” 

“Toni,” Betty said as she reached across the table, “here.” 

Between her thumb and pointer finger, Betty held her cheerleading scrunchie. 

“Oh,” Toni blurted out in surprise. 

“I know it’s not red and black,” Betty referred to the former Southside High’s school colors and newspaper name. She gestured at Toni’s Riverdale polo, “but I think it will match your outfit.” 

The scrunchie alternated color blocks of blue and gold in the same shades of the blue ‘R’ outlined in gold on Toni’s shirt. 

“Betty,” Toni spoke earnestly as she removed one of her gloves unceremoniously to accept the Vixen-standard hair tie, “thank you.” 

The two girls nodded at each other and then Toni gave Dr. Beaker a pointed look. She twirled the scrunchie around her finger as she spoke, “This cool with you, dude?” 

“You’re very fortunate today, Miss Topaz,” Dr. Beaker said. “It seems you’ve chosen your friends wisely.” 

Toni and Betty exchanged looks of bewilderment as Dr. Beaker walked away, off to collect more checklist forms. 

“Yeah, and that’s why he has a Ph.D. but teaches high school chemistry. His glowing personality,” Betty chuckled. “Ignore him.” 

“Seriously though, Betty, thank you,” Toni told her sincerely. 

Betty shrugged. Before she turned back around and reclaimed her seat, ignoring the eyes Jughead was flashing her, she responded, “ No sweat.” 

Betty looked at the water in the Erlenmeyer Flask. Stray bubbles had started to jet up to the surface, which meant a true boil was only a few minutes away. She looked up to her left and found Sweet Pea staring at her with a look of dumbfoundedness on his face. 

“What?” Betty asked innocently with a raised eyebrow. 

Sweet Pea shook his head. “That was cool what you just did, helping Toni.” 

“It was hardly a thing.” 

“It was something,” Sweet Pea disagreed. “You didn’t have to do it. Most people in this place wouldn’t have. Are you, like, behind on your outreach hours for the Riverdale legion of Kiwanis International?” 

“Why does doing something nice have to be an act of charity?” Betty countered. “Can’t a girl do something nice for no reason other than it being the right thing to do?” 

“ _The right thing_?” Sweet Pea said incredulously. 

“Surely you’ve heard of this concept.” 

“I have,” Sweet Pea confirmed. “I guess I’m surprised by your follow through. It’s one thing to write about the injustices done to Tiny Tim so you can pat yourself on the back and say you did something. It’s another to actually get involved.” 

“I practice what I preach, Sweet Pea,” Betty said simply. 

It was just moments ago that Betty had told herself to set her preconceived notions about Sweet Pea aside. If turnabout was truly fair play, then Betty believed she deserved the same treatment from Sweet Pea in return. 

Taking the high road and doing the right thing were in Betty’s nature – the very essence of Betty Cooper. Her bleeding heart was an underpinning, too. She knew she wanted to fit in with Jughead’s new friends, and she still wanted to fit into his life. She’d meant what she’d told him before: she loved him, she’d never stopped, and she didn’t think she could stop. He’d found a family in the Serpents, but she thought of him as family. She hoped, when he believed in himself enough, he would feel the same way about her. 

That part Betty couldn’t explain to Sweet Pea. 

“Also,” Betty added while she went to put her gloves back on, “I can’t speak for anyone but myself, but I doubt Toni appreciates you comparing her to Tiny Tim.” 

“Jughead and I have heard every word the two of you have said to each other since Betty walked over here,” Toni piped up, “and she’s right, I don’t appreciate it, _Sweetums_.” 

“Ah, come on, T,” Sweet Pea called back without moving from his chair or glancing back in Toni’s direction, testing how much she really could hear, “it was a metaphor!” 

Betty and Sweet Pea looked at each other and shared a snicker when Toni responded with a threat to show Sweet Pea exactly what kind of damage someone of her small but fierce stature could do to him. 

“Maybe I misjudged you, Coop,” Sweet Pea shortened Betty’s last name endearingly. He held his gloved fist out to her in a friendly manner. “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.” 

With matching grins, like they’d found common ground and had broken bread together, Betty and Sweet Pea bumped fists.

 

\-----

 

“Sweet Pea! Hey, Sweet Pea!” A sugary voice rang out across the hall. “Wait up!” 

Sweet Pea grunted and stopped walking. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his tattered jeans. He was back in his usual array of black, plaid, and thrifted combat boots—all of the Serpents were—but without his leather jacket. They’d worn their Weatherbee-approved attire for two days in a row during their first week at Riverdale High, but since then had only worn them one more time, at the second official unofficial on-campus Serpent meeting under the guise of Jughead’s Swords and Serpents school club. Sweet Pea used the last bit of money—earned on official snake business—he’d collected from the Whyte Wyrm to get a few black turtlenecks to cover his neck tattoo during school hours. 

In the hallway, a few students scowled at him as they re-navigated to avoid him, stepping aside so they didn’t run into him. Sweet Pea was tall, really tall, so his standing in the middle of the hall caused a disruption. The lunch bell had rung a minute or two ago, and not that he was gung ho to go all in on his New York State-sponsored free lunch that was sure to consist of slightly over-toasted grilled cheese and soggy (albeit healthy) fruit for dessert, but he was hungry. 

He waited until the owner of the wide green eyes and always swishing blonde ponytail was in front of him then started walking again. The smile Betty flashed him was like the overhead light the dental hygienist turned on at the dentist’s office before assessing for cavities. 

Sweet Pea gave Betty a single nod. “Hey, Coop.” 

Ever since the first day in Chemistry class, ever since Betty did Toni a solid, he’d kept an open mind about the daughter of the journalists who ran the town newspaper. After three weeks as lab partners, Sweet Pea had decided she wasn’t a bad lab person to be linked to academically. Betty always turned everything in on time. She compared homework assignments with him when they both got to Chemistry a few minutes before class started, to make sure they both had the same answers—one time he’d explained why he had the right answer and she clasped her hands together with thanks before correcting her paper. She was organized and overbearing about making sure they got through every step of their labs done on time, but she never took over and forced Sweet Pea to sit with his hands at his sides while she did everything. She’d even treated for milkshakes when they had to meet at Pop’s to work on their first lab report. 

And Jughead never shut up about her either, whether they were hanging out in the abandoned warehouse on the south side or gathered in the classroom that served as the meeting place for the real-but-not-real Swords and Serpents club—the Junior Serpent League, as Sweet Pea liked to call it. Jughead gushed about how Betty had gotten him a typewriter for Christmas, about how she could solve a mystery with less effort and more poise than Sheriff Keller and Mayor McCoy, about how she was good with cars, and about how she was the one who’d cleared FP’s name. It was always Betty this and Betty that from Jughead. Sweet Pea didn’t get why the two of them had broken up when it was so painstakingly obvious they only had heart eyes for each other. 

A lot of time in the chemistry lab was spent waiting, waiting for something to heat up, waiting for a reaction. Just waiting. It meant that desired or not, there was time for Betty and Sweet Pea to get to know each other better. The girl was a natural-born journalist—Sweet Pea didn’t think she could help herself—and she asked _a lot_ of questions. She asked about his family. She asked about Fangs (for Kevin). She asked Sweet Pea if he thought the ‘66 or ‘67 Chevelle was superior, then debated with him when she disagreed with his answer. Sweet Pea found out that blonde and beautiful cheerleader Betty Cooper had a lot more in common with him than he thought. He saw she was interested in Riverdale’s civil war, very interested, and she straddled firmly over the dividing line. She stood for social justice. No one had written more about the injustices of the south side and citizens of the south side than Betty. She did it better than Jughead, too. Toni told Sweet Pea that Jughead’s specialty were fictional accounts inspired by true events _à la_ Truman Capote. In Betty’s articles, the information was presented objectively and with tact. 

So Sweet Pea respected the northsider who’d stood up for FP Jones, for the disenfranchised south side population, for justice. Betty got along with Sweet Pea and she and Toni tolerated each other (while Betty and Jughead silently made forlorn heart eyes at each other on a daily basis), and had become an almost-friend. They even called her ‘Coop’. 

“Have you put any thought into what we discussed?” Betty asked Sweet Pea as they walked in the general direction of the cafeteria. 

Sweet Pea stifled a groan. There she went again with her inquisitive nature, starting the conversation with a question. 

“Not really,” Sweet Pea answered honestly. “I don’t think I’m much of a mentor. Or a joiner.” 

Betty giggled at his response. “You’re kidding, right?” 

“No. Why?” 

“You _are_ a joiner. Not only are you a member of the Swords and Serpents club, you’re literally in a _gang_.” The emphasized last word left her mouth much slower and quieter than the initial few. “And as for mentorship? You showed Jughead his place when he first got to Southside High and when he decided to join the Southside Serpents.” 

“You think punching someone’s face in with brass knuckles is mentorship?” Sweet Pea asked quizzically. 

“I think that part of it was awful. Just thinking about Jughead hurt…it hurts me.” Sweet Pea could have sworn Betty’s eyes glassed over at the mention of the gauntlet Jughead had run as initiation to join the gang. “But once he was in, he was in. You looked out for him.” 

“Serpents take care of their own.” The words rolled off Sweet Pea’s tongue easily and instinctively. 

“Right,” Betty said quietly, and Sweet Pea wondered if she was actually sad the Serpent dance Toni had advised her about hadn’t made her one of their own.

“Anyway though,” Betty’s tone changed to one much brighter, “I think you’d be good at it.” 

The ‘it’ was peer tutoring for middle school students in the conference room at the public library—one of the rare civil war neutral places in Riverdale—on Sundays. Sweet Pea realized a week into being lab partners with Betty what a mistake it was to have let her know he liked chemistry. Before he could relay to her that he was so fond of it because it was the basis of most recipes in his favorite book, _The Anarchist Cookbook_ , she’d begun the current week by harping on about tutoring. No one had signed up to tutor science, so she’d been splitting her Sunday sessions between English and Science. But it wasn’t as effective as it could be—sometimes she didn’t have enough time to thoroughly conduct the peer review portion of the students’ writing before moving onto mini science experiments. Betty insisted Sweet Pea would make such a good science tutor, given his penchant for high school chemistry. Sweet Pea wasn’t so sure. 

“I’m not sure tutoring is the right place for my voice,” Sweet Pea said. “Besides, can you imagine me rolling up to the library on my bike, clad in leather, just…going through the steps of photosynthesis?” 

“Yes, I can,” Betty affirmed. “Also, a lot of the kids are from the south side of town. I think having someone there from their own community would really resonate with them.” 

Sweet Pea’s ears perked up at the mention of the south side. “You didn’t tell me that before.”

“I knew you’d fight me on this every step of the way,” Betty said with a shrug and a chuckle. “I figured I’d save all bells and whistles for the very end.” 

Sweet Pea shook his head incredulously. “You fight dirty, Coop.” 

Another thing Sweet Pea had learned about Betty was that she had a Nancy Drew complex. She could make deductions—reasonable deductions—about all her classmates in fair Riverdale. It was probably why she asked so many seemingly annoying questions; he thought she must’ve kept the answers in a heart-shaped box and studied them with critical analysis every night before she went to sleep. 

Choosing to wait until later in the week to reveal the wrong side of the tracks residence of the Sunday afternoon tutees was indeed playing dirty. Sweet Pea knew Betty had deduced his affinity, his soft spot, for the kids in his neighborhood. Their fate wasn’t sealed up and mailed in yet. They didn’t have to become Serpents. With Mayor McCoy’s announcement that Southside High was shut down permanently, the middle school kids from the south side could get a proper start at Riverdale High when the time came, take AP classes, get recommendation letters from the likes of Dr. Beaker, and go off to four-year state college with financial aid. And with someone like Betty Cooper helping them along the way? Hell, a few of them might even win scholarships to private liberal arts schools in New England. 

Of course Sweet Pea wanted the kids in the neighborhood to succeed. And he knew they looked up to him; stared at his motorcycle and neck tattoo with wonder. Secretly Sweet Pea hoped there was a way out for him, too. Being a Serpent gave him status and power on the south side. But he wasn’t an idiot. There was so much more out there beyond Riverdale. It was why he’d immediately stopped squandering his potential and _tried_ on the first day at his new high school. It was why he’d used his pipe bomb-making skills for the demonstration of phase change instead. It was why one side of his conscience—the good side—lately seemed to have blonde hair and a sense of determination that wouldn’t allow for failure. 

Damn. Betty was onto him. She understood his motivations and his psyche. 

“Toni told me about the Toys for Tots deliveries you made during the holidays, so I knew the kids would be a soft spot for you.” The grin Betty flashed Sweet Pea was coy. “But that’s not even my last method of coercing you into showing up.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Mmmhmm,” Betty practically hummed. “Ethel will be there. She’s the math tutor.” 

Sweet Pea’s eyes widened before he ducked his head and scoped the hallway with shifty eyes. 

“ _Betty_ ,” he hissed, addressing her by her usual nickname for the first time that day _._

“What?” Betty said innocently. 

“You…you said you’d keep that to yourself!” Sweet Pea stammered in a combination of a whisper and a yell. 

His whole face had blushed coral, even a little pink around the tips of his ears. 

One more treasure Betty had unearthed with her sleuthing skills was Sweet Pea’s crush on Ethel Muggs. It was bad enough he fancied a northsider, but it was made so much worse when Betty had figured it out and he’d gotten too flustered to profusely deny it. 

Sweet Pea had been around girls like Toni his whole life—very cute, very small, and very full of spunk—so it was no wonder he didn’t find himself attracted to a pint-sized beauty who needed an attitude adjustment. He felt like, despite their obviously different backgrounds, he and Ethel were a lot alike. Ethel was tall like him, which he liked. And though she was a northsider, she was among those who’d been wronged in the past by the ones at the top of the food chain. Sweet Pea felt like he’d been wronged his whole life. He liked her quiet presence, always in dainty outfits and bobbed curly hair with a neat bow in place. He even thought the freckles on her forehead were cute. In English class, while she’d read her poetry aloud one day, his mind had wandered off thinking about giving her hugs from behind and forehead kisses. That part he absolutely kept to himself, unwilling to let Betty tease him about his wholesome visions that weren’t tinged in serpentine green. 

“Relax, Sweet Pea, my lips are sealed.” Betty nudged him in the shoulder. “I’m just saying, Sunday could be a good day to finally talk to her for longer than 15 seconds. With you tutoring science and her tutoring math, it could be a match made in STEM!” 

Sweet Pea cringed. “God, Coop. You did not just say that.” 

Before Betty could answer, a locker slammed shut in front of them, echoing in the nearly empty hallway, and a figure in argyle approached them, smug smile on his face and arms crossed over his chest. 

“What do we have here?” he sneered and sniffed at the air. “Is this a new development I smell?” 

Betty looked at the teenage boy who’d obstructed the path with distaste. “Um, feel free to run along, Dilton.” 

Dilton Doiley stood poised before Betty and Sweet Pea doing his best impression of a threatening northsider. 

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?” he said, addressing Betty. “What are you, a snake now? Just like your mother?” 

“Hey,” Sweet Pea interjected angrily. “I’d choose my words very carefully if I were you.” 

“Oh, is that how it is now?” Dilton retorted. “BDSM Betty doesn’t have to fight any of her own battles? What is it exactly she does to keep you thugs chomping at the bit to do her bidding for her?” 

“Last I recall, Chuck Clayton nearly had his balls boiled off. So, no, I don’t think Betty needs anyone to do her bidding for her. Not me, not Jones, not even pretty boy Andrews.” Sweet Pea flexed his fingers and then curled them into his fists. “Me, with my old man shoes and my scientist heart – I just like hitting people and making pipe bombs.” 

Betty glanced at Sweet Pea, who was nearly foaming at the mouth. She liked the way he’d defended her, with the implication she could handle a sparring of sorts all on her own. She was surrounded by doubters and would-be protectors. She’d rarely been elevated based on her own merit, except when she did it herself and the times when Jughead had acted as her anchor, tethering her to shore in the middle of unsettled waters. 

“What is the point of all this, Dilton?” Betty huffed. “What are you trying to prove?” 

“What am I trying to prove?” Dilton repeated back. “What I stand for. That I know who my friends are.” 

Betty laughed. “Your _friends_? You think the likes of Chuck and Reggie are actually your friends?” 

“And what if I do?” 

“Dilton, just because you DJed a few house parties and helped with Archie’s misguided Red Circle video, it doesn’t make them your friends. They’d sooner throw you to the wolves,” Betty said. “Chuck and Reggie are the same guys who shoved you into lockers and bullied you through middle school. And now, what, you’ve graduated to their level? You want to bully me? You want to bully Sweet Pea?” 

“Oh, don’t act so high and mighty, Betty. We all know crazy runs in your blood,” Dilton retorted. “Cheryl told everyone how you threatened to kill her and how you leveraged the video of Jason’s murder to get her to do what you wanted. Everyone knows about your big night at the biker bar – a striptease for a room full of snakes. Are the rumors true? Do you like to get a little freaky in bed? Do you really send pictures of yourself to Jughead to pass around to his buddies even though you’ve been broken up for weeks?” 

Betty fought the urge to dig her nails into her palms and open up the crescent moon scars that lingered there. She willed herself to remain calm and keep her breathing steady. Truthfully she hadn’t heard those rumor about herself, but she supposed they were par for the course given the south side-positive articles she’d written for _The Blue & Gold_ and how she’d encouraged Jughead’s new friends to get involved in the extracurricular activities Riverdale High had to offer. 

Sweet Pea waited for Betty’s reaction. He hadn’t heard those rumors either, though he wasn’t exactly the targeted demographic. If there were racy pictures of Betty on Jughead’s phone, he’d kept them to himself, but honestly, Sweet Pea thought that would be out of character for Betty. Although Sweet Pea had enjoyed Betty’s dance at the Whyte Wyrm, smirked at it and even applauded it, he’d recognized it as a move done out of desperation. It had been about showing Jughead she was ready to be his ride or die. She’d wanted in to protect him and he’d kicked her to the curb to protect her, both of them too stubborn to see they were a stronger force to be reckoned with together. But that was for them to figure out. 

Betty held on tightly to the straps of her backpack, using the canvas material as a blockade between her nails and palms as she addressed Dilton. “Okay, so I’m a raving total lunatic. My soul is nothing but a black hole. I’m _crazy_ ,” she conceded. “At least I know who I am.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re not one of the snakes,” Dilton said with a sinister smile. “You’re still just a Serpent Slut.” 

The back of Dilton’s head collided with a row of lockers so fast that the sound of his body hitting against the metal had barely snapped in the air before Sweet Pea’s fist collided with his cheek. Dilton’s face followed the direction of impact and his glasses flew off his face, landing somewhere down the hall. Betty gasped as Dilton sank to the ground in a heap, clutching his face. 

Sweet Pea kneeled down and grabbed the collar of Dilton’s argyle sweater in one hand, the other poised in position to make another swift punch. “Apologize to her,” Sweet Pea demanded, “or you’ll suffer worse.” 

Breathing heavily, Dilton snarled back, “Bite me.” 

As promised, Sweet Pea punched him once more in the jaw and then square in the nose. Betty was frozen, dazed, by the raw violence in front of her. Even though she was merely in a position of observation as she stood by Sweet Pea in his element, she felt the same rush of power she’d felt when she’d kept Chuck in the hot tub at her will and when she’d taken the stage at the Whyte Wyrm. There was nothing glamorous about the fire and brimstone in the corner of her mind. She wanted to understand why, in moments of weakness, something so wrong could feel so right to her. The ways she’d let her anger and desperation manifest had done so much more harm than good—to others, to her relationship, and to herself. 

It wasn’t until Sweet Pea was standing over Dilton, ready to kick him in the stomach, that Betty was pulled from the trance of her thoughts. 

“Stop!” she cried out. “Sweet Pea, stop!” 

Sweet Pea’s boot stomped the ground instead of Dilton’s torso as he turned to meet Betty’s gaze. “Are you sure? Because I could do this for awhile.” 

“Just stop,” Betty grabbed Sweet Pea’s arm and pulled him back from Dilton, who had curled himself into fetal position. “I don’t want his apology. It wouldn’t mean anything anyway.” 

Sweet Pea sighed, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. “Fine,” he answered. He pointed his finger in Dilton’s direction and spoke a few final words before Betty could drag him away, “You’ve just been touched by an angel.” 

Betty dragged Sweet Pea away from ‘the scene of the crime’, leaving Dilton to tend to his own wounds. It wasn’t until they’d rounded another corner and were in the final hallway leading to the cafeteria that Betty stopped and rested a hand on Sweet Pea’s arm. 

“Sweet Pea…” she trailed off. 

“Coop,” he said more confidently, “no one saw what happened. We won’t get in trouble. I know I shouldn’t have done that but…well, _what a dick_! I’m sorry but I don’t regret it. He deserved it.” 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Betty agreed. “But thank you.” 

Awkwardness lulled before Betty threw her arms around Sweet Pea in an appreciative hug. He swallowed the lump in his throat, surprised by the appreciation. He wasn’t used to friendly, platonic hugs. Toni wasn’t a very touchy-feely person and when Sweet Pea did things for the Serpents, the ‘thank you’s usually came in the form of a nod or slap on the shoulder, or if he was really lucky, a beer for his hand to cradle. He pat Betty on the back a few times but never settled his arms around her before the moment was up and she pulled away. 

Sweet Pea was slightly embarrassed. He was so maladjusted he couldn’t even engage in a friendly hug. There was another factoid for Betty’s heart-shaped box, he decided, to later analyze and deduce about his home life from. 

Despite himself, Sweet Pea cleared his throat and answered, “You’re welcome, Coop. And uh…sorry to bring up the whole…hot tub incident.”

The story of Betty infamously luring the Big Man on Campus and turning the hot tub into a pressure cooker had made its way to the south side. It was a prime example of her power to throw in Dilton’s face—displays of violence and domination always came naturally to Sweet Pea’s mind—though Sweet Pea guessed that incident had been far from Betty’s proudest moment and a touchy subject to bring up.

Unfazed, Betty gave him one of her brightest smiles, just like she’d sported before the confrontation with Dilton. “Never pegged you for a hero complex. And also, you should consider trying out for the wrestling team.”

“Okay, before we run into more north side goons and before you come up with five more extracurricular suggestions,” Sweet Pea scoffed, “can we please head to lunch? It’s not easy throwing haymakers on an empty stomach.”

“Actually, I brought my lunch today. I have to get to the newspaper office.” Betty pointed back down the hallway with her thumb. “I just wanted to catch you before lunch so I can confirm my tutor headcount.”

“Whoa, wait, hold the phone,” Sweet Pea said quickly. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

Betty put a hand on his shoulder, leaned in and rose to her tiptoes to pop a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thanks again, Sweet Pea,” she said cheerfully, quietly, before retreating down the hall.

When she was out of earshot, she called back at him, “See you Sunday!”

Sweet Pea was left in the middle of the abandoned hallway staring at the back of Betty’s head, blonde ponytail flying behind her, until she ducked into the newspaper office. Still blushing from the contact, Sweet Pea touched his cheek where she’d kissed him. He chuckled to himself and shook his head.

He knew for a fact he didn’t sign up to tutor science to middle schoolers and he hadn’t intended to try out for wrestling. But somehow he felt like he’d just agreed to do both.

“Unbelievable, Coop,” Sweet Pea muttered under his breath as he shoved his hands in his pockets and finally made his way to lunch.

Out from the shadows, a slim figure dressed in ripped jeans and flannel, with a crown beanie rested atop his head of raven hair stepped into the completely empty hallway. One curl fell forward and swooped over his eyes. Jughead had seen Sweet Pea receive the hug and the kiss—a Betty Cooper signature kiss on the cheek that once upon a time only he had been the recipient of. He looked in both of the opposite directions where Betty and Sweet Pea had disappeared to. He sighed deeply.

Jughead wasn’t sure in whose footsteps he should follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Extended Chapter Notes](http://jerepars.tumblr.com/post/170681004670/know-who-you-are-extended-chapter-notes) are on tumblr, where I’m [@jerepars](http://jerepars.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thank you for reading! Any and all feedback is always appreciated. <3


	2. Stay What You Are

Sweet Pea looked across the gymnasium to the bleachers. Then he looked down at his outfit, at the ridiculous blue spandex that was the Riverdale High wrestling uniform. Sweet Pea was the tallest guy on the team and in the highest weight class, which made him feel even more like he stuck out like a sore thumb. He wasn’t one of those guys like Kevin Keller or Archie Andrews who took the honor of being on the team so seriously and wore their spandex with pride. Sweet Pea thought he was a decent wrestler—he and Fangs did well enough at practice for the intrasquad matchups—though he also believed he’d made the team merely for his specific height and weight. 

Across the way, Sweet Pea’s eyes focused in on the two-person sign that donned his name, held up by two beautiful people who couldn’t be more opposite from each other. There was Toni, in her Rayanne Graff-inspired flannel, cut-off shorts over fishnet tights, and pink hair in two braids with a few strands deliberately placed to frame her face. Toni held up the poster board that said ‘ _Sweet_ ’ in big blue Riverdale High varsity letters. Then there was Betty, in her classic pastel teal sweater over a crisp white collar decorated with jewels. Her blonde hair was in a tight ponytail high on her head, and her wide smile complemented her wide eyes. Betty’s sign was more elaborate, the varsity letters of ‘ _Pea_ ’ surrounded by red and pink hearts and ‘ _#1_ ’. 

An elbow nudged Sweet Pea in the side, followed by a taunting observation from Fangs, “Looks like your personal cheering squad helped, huh?” 

The wrestling meet was nearly over, with only Chuck and Fangs left to fight their opponents from Centerville High. Sweet Pea had won his fight in consecutive rounds on the mat. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d looked to the sidelines that afternoon. Ever since the team had lined up on the mat for introductions at the beginning of the meet, he’d seen his personal cheer section, as Fangs called them. It was hard to ignore a two-person sign that said _Sweet Pea_ on it. 

He couldn’t believe it, that he, Sweet Pea, Southside Serpent and all around shit disturber, was treated with the same hometown glory as a Riverdale High School jock. There were guys on the wrestling team who didn’t have signs of their names and he had the peppiest of the cheerleaders on Cheryl Blossom’s squad on _his_ squad. Sweet Pea loved the irony, the mockery, of typical jock stuff in his honor. 

Sweet Pea nudged Fangs right back. “What, you don’t think your cheer section is helpful?” 

The young motorcycle-gang-kids-turned-wrestlers moved their gazes off to the right of Betty and Toni, where Jughead sat. His needlenose was tucked into a novel, _Devil’s Knot_ , knit gray hat snug over his ears and dark hair, and slouched in an equally gray pattern of flannel. Jughead was comfortable. Too comfortable for someone holding a pep sign. There was a smaller sign, relative to the one for Sweet Pea, propped up against Jughead’s messenger bag and slightly tucked under his arm. In nothing other than black Sharpie, Jughead had written ‘ _Fangs_ ’ and beside it he’d drawn the logo he’d come up with for the Swords and Serpents club. Jughead was nowhere near as enthusiastic as the girls beside him. He paid no mind to anything around him, engaged only in his reading. 

When Jughead and Toni had shown up to _The Blue & Gold_ office for a sign-making session, to support their friends who’d made the wrestling team, Betty had proposed an elegant and eloquent banner for the suddenly All-Star Sweet Pea. He was the Serpent she’d hit it off with the most, not only because they were lab partners but also for reasons like what had happened when Dilton Doiley nearly ended up with a broken jaw. Betty kept an open mind and didn’t judge Sweet Pea for his tiger stripes, and in turn, he was protective of her. 

It wasn’t the kind of protective that would climb up a ladder to her bedroom window or push her away to keep her safe. But it edged on a little too close for comfort for Jughead. And Toni didn’t appreciate all the canceled Sunday plans so Sweet Pea could use his anarchist recipes to show kids how to make ice cream from liquid nitrogen. Toni had big plans, and wanted more out of life, but she’d always counted on Sweet Pea to be constant and unmoved. And he was _her_ best friend—definitely not Betty Cooper’s. 

So when Betty had finished her proposal, Toni and Jughead had shaken their heads. They proposed two separate poster boards—one made and held by each of the girls—that would combine to form a sign for Sweet Pea. Jughead decided he would take care of a sign for Fangs, because it wouldn’t be fair if only Sweet Pea got the visual support. Betty didn’t know it, but Jughead had chosen to make Fangs’ sign, and Toni had chosen to go simple with her sign, in order to keep Sweet Pea grounded, to remind him why he’d followed through with the wrestling team in the first place, to make a mockery of everything celebrated by the north side that was supposed to be strictly north side. As if he could forget. 

Though engrossed in his book, Jughead dog-eared the page he was on and stood, turning his sign for Fangs into a seat filler when he heard the girls discuss the next match. Jughead answered the questions they asked with their eyes when they both glanced up at him. “I’m going to get a chili dog while I still can, before the concession stands close. Do either of you want anything?” 

“I want a drink. A big soda. With lots of ice,” Toni answered immediately. “Cherry cola.” 

“Okay. Noted,” Jughead nodded, restraining himself from a remark about how Cheryl Blossom-themed Toni’s drink order was. “Betty?” 

“No, thank you.” Betty shook her head. “I’m okay, Juggie.” 

Betty felt her cheeks flush as soon as Jughead’s name, in its most affectionate form, was out of her mouth. She hadn’t called him that in a while, not since before their breakup. Jughead noticed it, too, and their eyes stayed glued to each other awkwardly for a few extra seconds before Jughead walked off. His heart skipped a beat as he headed toward the gym entrance. He was convinced the Serpents he was closest with—Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs—all had varying levels of crushes on Betty. But no matter what she thought about each of them, at least he still had a years-old nickname of affection up on them. 

Toni watched Jughead hold Betty’s attention as he walked away and, from the corner of her eye, saw Betty hold Sweet Pea’s attention from across the gym. Toni groaned and asked Betty a question she’d been thinking about for far too long. “Do you, like, have a thing for idiots?”

Betty’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” 

“No offense, Coop,” Toni said, though her tone suggested full offense. “I just mean…Jones should be on his knees, begging you to take him back, but instead he pathetically writes Lovecraftian-style short stories on the typewriter you gave him for Christmas. And Sweet Pea is…suddenly an overachieving prodigy since becoming your lab partner. They’re both idiots.” 

“Okay, first of all, everything you just said is counterintuitive,” Betty pointed out. “If they were idiots, they wouldn’t be able to do those things. And second…Sweet Pea making an effort? How is that a bad thing?” 

“Sweet Pea doesn’t try,” Toni clarified. “The only thing he’s ever excelled at was trying to blow stuff up out in Eversgreen Forest or playing practical jokes on Fangs.” 

“You don’t think people can change their ways?” 

“I’ve known Sweet Pea since he got held back in the second grade,” Toni responded. “He hasn’t even changed his haircut since then.” 

Betty doubted she and Toni would see eye to eye over Sweet Pea’s new extracurricular participation, especially if Toni expected him to remain unmoved, like he was still at Southside High. So he had picked up some new activities that might help him get out of Riverdale by way of state college, but so what? He was still ready to get into a fist fight at the drop of a hat, still carried a switchblade, still a Serpent. Underneath it all, Sweet Pea hadn’t changed. Betty didn’t think he had to, didn’t want him to—his sense of loyalty was something they had in common and the fact that he didn’t judge her for the fire and brimstone that sometimes brewed inside her was something she appreciated. As lab partners and as friends, she thought they both had a lot to learn from each other. 

“As his best friend, I would have thought that you had a better read on him than a lifelong troublemaker with no future,” Betty countered. “You plan on getting out of this town, don’t you? Why can’t he? And if you think he’s an idiot, why are you friends with him?” 

“So, seriously, though, is that the kink of Type A’s?” Toni rephrased her original question but ignored the ones Betty raised. “Do you make a habit of trying to rescue lost boys from the wrong side of the tracks?” 

“I see people as people, not projects,” Betty answered shortly. “What’s with the hostile inquisition, Toni? Do you have a beef with me?” 

“I just want to know if I should brace myself for Sweet Pea and Jughead blowing heads over your tight ponytail.” Toni shrugged. 

Betty cleared her throat. “Sweet Pea is my friend, Toni.” 

“Okay, that’s fair,” Toni conceded. “But you might want to consider sharing those platonic feelings with the rest of the group.” 

“I don’t have to justify or defend my relationships to you or anyone else,” Betty spoke indignantly. “No one has to understand.” 

“Not even those who are involved?” 

“If you’re implying that either Sweet Pea or I have been flirtatious with each other, or that we want to be,” Betty sighed, “you could not be further off base.” 

To keep a secret, Betty believed, was to take it to the grave, or at least sit on it until it came out on its own or its rightful owner let it out. On more than one occasion, Sweet Pea had told her she was the only one who knew about the crush he was harboring for Ethel. Whatever Toni’s beef was, Betty would not deflect to get her point across. She’d just have to keep up the brick wall she’d built up surrounding her burgeoning friendship with Sweet Pea. 

Like she had no chill, Toni quickly followed up, “What the hell does that mean? Did he say something to you about someone? Do you know something?” 

“You’re his best friend, right?” Betty shrugged with an unapologetic smile. “And you seem to think you’re pretty smart. You can figure it out.” 

Toni’s only response was to huff and roll her eyes. In silence, she respected Betty for her sass, for not backing down. Betty was tough enough to hold her own in a back and forth where Toni deliberately pushed her buttons, and tough was what one needed to be in order to hang with the Serpents. 

That was how it usually went between Betty and Toni. They weren’t mean to each other, and they were ready to help out if necessary, like on the first day of Chemistry, but they wouldn’t exactly be inviting each other over for sleepovers and braiding each other’s hair, either. The two girls didn’t communicate again until long after Jughead had returned with a chili dog and soda, and the wrestling meet was done. Sweet Pea and Fangs walked over to their poster board-carrying friends. Toni smirked at Betty and nodded at her to pay extra attention to the greeting that would unfold between Sweet Pea and Jughead. 

“Very impressive, Sweetums. You sure showed that freshman from Centerville how much Riverdale High school spirit you have,” Toni congratulated Sweet Pea, though Betty thought it sounded more like a backhanded compliment. “You too, Fangs.” 

Fangs had his matchup in the second half of the wrestling meet and, like Sweet Pea, won in straight sets. Betty had quickly learned that although Fangs Fogarty was the quietest of the core group of what Sweet Pea called the Junior Serpent League, he was the most eclectic. Fangs was interested in gang politics and human rights activism, good at sports, and also a proficient artist, of both visual and performance art. 

In line with his demeanor, he merely threw an arm around Toni and smiled his dimpled smile as he awaited Sweet Pea’s response. 

“Spare me, T,” Sweet Pea scoffed at Toni. “Stop frontin’ and try and tell me you wouldn’t join the _Cheryl Bombshell squad_ if asked.” 

“Hey!” Betty exclaimed with offense. “I worked my ass off to get on the cheerleading squad.” 

“You’re okay, Coop,” Sweet Pea answered with a nonchalant nod at her thoroughly decorated poster board. “You’ve never concealed your affinity for pep – streamers, hearts, glitter, and all.” 

Betty beamed proudly. “So you like the sign?” 

“How could I not?” Sweet Pea smirked as he extended his hand out to Betty for a fist bump. “We made a deal, didn’t we?” 

Betty matched his secretive smile and tapped her knuckles against his. 

She would have been at the wrestling meet anyway, to support Kevin, but she’d made a friendly wager with Sweet Pea before their last Chemistry quiz. If she scored higher, he had to give up his next Saturday in two weeks to write the PSAT. If he scored higher, she’d promised he’d have a very obnoxious sign with his name on it at the wrestling meet. She didn’t see a downside, because either way he was fulfilling his potential. And when Sweet Pea scored half a point higher than her on the quiz, she’d happily taken on the task of a well-decorated sign. 

Toni and Fangs exchanged looks of curiosity and Jughead shifted in the spot he stood in uncomfortably, nostrils flaring. 

Sweet Pea raised an eyebrow before frowning at Jughead. “Care to share your thoughts with the group, Jones?” 

Jughead moved his gaze from the spot on the shiny gymnasium floor he’d been staring at to all the faces in the group turned to look at him. Like a deer in headlights, somewhat taken aback by the attention spotlighted on him, he adjusted the gray beanie on his head before shoving his hands into the wool-lined pockets of his denim Sherpa jacket. 

“No,” he muttered in response to Sweet Pea and handed his sign over to Fangs before coming up with an excuse, “I’m just…I haven’t had time to work on my novel today and I still need to drop by the library to pick up some books for research.” 

“ _Boo_ ,” Sweet Pea said emphatically, with a bitter tone in his voice. “Sorry, that’s not on our docket tonight.” 

“Whatever,” Jughead shrugged it off. “I believe it was promised there’d be a pinball competition.” 

“Yes, “ Fangs chimed in, pointing at Jughead. “Yes, we are totally doing that.” 

With a quick tight-lipped smile, Jughead went to gather his belongings, shoving his paperback book and notebook in his messenger bag. 

“What about you, Coop?” Sweet Pea directed at Betty. “Care to join us for arcade games at the Whyte Wyrm? I could use a partner for doubles air hockey.” 

Betty laughed nervously. “Um…” 

“Unless you’re too scared to be on the losing team,” Fangs gloated. “Toni and I always kick Sweet Pea’s ass at air hockey.” 

“I’m not scared.” Betty shook her head. Sweet Pea made a good lab partner and she could tell he was putting in a good effort to be an even better science tutor for his group on Sundays that consisted mostly of middle school students who lived south of the train tracks. When he was motivated, she saw a lot of her own determination in Sweet Pea. So she had no doubt they could go toe to toe with Toni and Fangs if they paired up. “I was just thinking about the last time I was at the Whyte Wyrm. It wasn’t exactly one of my better nights.” 

What Betty remembered most about her night on stage in the biker bar wasn’t how the lights shone down on her black lingerie or the inappropriate whistles and catcalls or the feel of the heavy leather of FP’s Serpent jacket when it was over. She remembered Jughead; how he’d looked at her with so much awe and desire when she first walked in the bar, and the way he looked at her with not just sorrow but pity—pity that she thought _that_ was what she needed to do to support him—when he broke up with her and sent her away. She could still feel how cold the parking lot was that night, and how his set jaw had felt in her trembling hands before he walked off. 

The feelings of that night were ones she couldn’t shake. 

“Tonight’s UFC Fight Night,” Toni informed Betty with disappointment. “They won’t even let us near the bar. We’re literally relegated to the arcade.” 

“Oh,” Betty said plainly. She looked around at the bodies moving out of the gym. “It’s really nice of you to invite me, but as it is, I think I’m on my own getting home. I’d have no way to get there. Looks like I’ve already been ditched by my ride.” 

Betty and Kevin were working on mending the fence between them. Kevin had told her she could have a ride home with him and Sheriff Keller after the meet, but neither were in sight. She’d seen Kevin making eyes at one of the boys on the Centerville team and she wondered if Kevin had already arranged for a rendezvous in the woods. 

Sweet Pea saw an opportunity present itself, and saw it was golden, so he took it. “Well, Jughead can give you a ride. Right, Jug?” 

“What?” 

“ _What_?” 

Both Betty and Jughead answered in sync. They looked at Sweet Pea, then at each other, then looked away. 

Sweet Pea was fed up and _so_ over the way Betty and Jughead had been dancing around each other since Betty’s ill-conceived Serpent dance. Their obvious pining and jealousy over the other humans who dared interact with their ‘ _bae_ ’ put Sweet Pea in a bad mood. He was at wits’ end, just about ready to use the little mechanical knowledge he had to set a booby trap and lock them in a closet together until they worked out what was keeping them apart. 

He thought if he could get them back to the scene of, well, the scene, under different circumstances, then they could finally start moving in the right direction. He liked Betty, really—she was a positive influence and the best academic partner he’d ever had for anything. But if he had to hear Jughead whine about her one more time, Sweet Pea was pretty sure he’d quickly remember exactly where he hid his brass knuckles in the shoebox under the bed. 

So Sweet Pea volunteered Jughead. He would expect the beanie-wearing boy’s ‘thanks’ later. 

“I said Jughead can give you a ride,” Sweet Pea repeated to Betty before he nudged Jughead in the ribs. “You can do that, can’t you, Jones?” 

Jughead coughed at the contact but recovered with a clearing of his throat. “I mean, yeah, sure. But Betty doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to.” 

Sweet Pea wanted to smack him upside the head. It was statements such as those that kept Jughead and Betty miles apart even when they were standing next to each other. Instead, Sweet Pea deferred to Betty. “Coop?” 

“Like I said, I’m thankful for the offer. And I’d even like to go,” she said timidly. “But I don’t want Jug to be without his helmet.” 

Sweet Pea was pretty sure Betty was going to grow up to be the most protective, straight-laced, mom ever. She’d be the president of the PTA at the school where her and Jughead’s kids would go to. She’d be a celebrated career-driven power mom; a real-life Kirsten Cohen. And after her experience with a motorcycle gang in her youth, she would for sure be on the local committees of MAAD and the National Motorcycle Safety Foundation. She’d be everything Sweet Pea’s mother wasn’t. 

It was sweet, really, how much Betty cared about Jughead even though they’d taken turns breaking each other’s hearts. 

So Sweet Pea unzipped his gym bag and pulled his own helmet out. “Here. You can borrow mine.” 

Betty squinted at him. “What makes you think I’d be cool with _any_ of you not wearing your helmets?” 

Sweet Pea admired her indignation and explained, “I mean that you can borrow mine because I don’t need it. My bike was out of gas this morning. Fogarty and I drove here together in his uncle’s truck. The helmet is useless to me now.” 

“So you…just decided to bring it along for fun?” Betty questioned. 

The truth was that Sweet Pea had planned to invite her to the Whyte Wyrm by way of Jughead all along. But she didn’t have to know that. Sweet Pea needed to keep Betty’s inquisitive Spidey senses from tingling. If either she or Jughead suspected a setup, the inconvenience of getting a ride with Fangs would have all been for nothing. 

“It’s like you said before, Coop,” Sweet Pea quipped instead, “ _safety first_.” 

Betty seemed satisfied with that answer because she smirked and nodded. 

“So, you in?” Sweet Pea asked his favorite lab partner. 

“As long as Jughead’s okay with it,” she agreed. “Yeah, I’m in.” 

“You good, Jug?” Sweet Pea waited for Jughead’s confirmation. 

Jughead adjusted his messenger bag over his shoulder and straightened his posture. “Yes. Good.” 

“Excellent! See you both at the Wyrm. And Coop,” Sweet Pea pointed at Betty, “bring your ‘A’ game. Team Chemistry is kicking ass tonight.” 

Betty winked at Sweet Pea for his pun and squeezed his arm quickly. 

“I know what you’re doing,” she hummed under her breath before she walked away with Jughead. “I hope it works.”

 

\-----

 

Sweet Pea stood last at the very end of a line in his own home, one that went the short distance from the living room to the kitchen. 

Riverdale might have forgotten about its untold dirty history and the traditions of the Uktena, but Sweet Pea’s grandmother would never forget the tradition she’d set in place regarding her grandson’s birthday. Every year since he’d come to live with her, she insisted he invite his friends over for a home-cooked meal that consisted of generous proportions of traditional dishes from her own Filipino heritage. 

It had long stopped being cool for Sweet Pea to celebrate his birthday at home with his grandmother—his _lola_ —but being that she was the only one who’d stepped up to keep him out of foster care when his father died in a car crash and his mother went to jail, the soft spot he had for her was his underbelly. Besides, his friends could make fun of his birthday meal all they wanted, but they were the ones who were always so quick to accept the take home plates she packed up for them. And the Serpents, every last one of them, were jelly in her hands. She wasn’t active in gang leadership but she was regarded as a matriarch. She and Sweet Pea lived in an apartment above the corner store she owned, _Lola Nora’s_ , which had been used for many Serpent-related deals and activities over the years. 

Upon arrival for birthday meals—lunch for Sweet Pea’s seventeenth birthday—Sweet Pea’s friends all fell in line to greet the infamous Lola Nora. 

Toni was first. 

“Antoinette, my darling,” Lola Nora greeted in an accented but heavily excited tone. “Come here.” 

There was no getting out of a hug from Lola Nora once one was summoned; his grandmother was still the only one Sweet Pea felt comfortable getting platonic affection from. She squeezed Toni so hard that she nearly had the wind knocked out of her. It was rare for Toni, at 5’2”, to be taller than anyone in her vicinity. But Lola Nora was a stocky 4’11” so she was like a child hanging on for dear life when she embraced Toni. When Sweet Pea had hit his growth spurt in the eighth grade, he and Toni used to joke that Lola Nora would be a good person to bring to an expensive music festival because she could so easily be tucked into Sweet Pea’s pocket. 

“How are you, Lola?” Toni asked the older woman. 

“How am I? Look at me, still beautiful right?” Lola Nora boasted as she struck a pose, framing her face with a hand and resting the other on her hip. 

“Of course, Lola,” Toni chuckled. “Always.” 

“That’s why I’ve always liked you, Toni.” Lola Nora poked Toni in the side. “Are you getting enough to eat?” 

Because Toni had known Sweet Pea since the second grade, the year he got held back because he’d missed so much school when his dad died, Lola Nora was well versed in the instability of Toni’s home life. 

“I’m okay, Lola,” Toni replied with her best brave face. “I’ve been managing.” 

“You’ll let me know if you need anything, won’t you?” Lola Nora looked Toni in the eye. 

Lola Nora didn’t have the resources to support any teenagers other than her own grandson on a full-time basis, but there were plenty of ways for the community on the south side to support each other beyond materially. 

With a promise to reach out if needed, Toni went and sat at one of the mismatched chairs at the table. Fangs was next to step up to the plate. His expression was solemn and unsure. 

“Lola—” Fangs began but was quickly cut off when Lola Nora held a hand up in the air to stop him. 

“I have a bone to pick with you, Mr. Fangs Fogarty,” she scolded. 

Fangs sighed and cringed. “I know, Lola. I know.” 

“You never come to see your favorite lola anymore, huh?” Lola Nora chastised him. “Too busy gallivanting.” 

“I wouldn’t exactly call it that.” 

“No excuses,” Lola Nora exclaimed loudly. “Now you just text and wait for Marty downstairs. I don’t like that. That’s not nice.” 

“You’re right. I have no excuse.” Fangs hung his head and wisely choose not to argue. 

“I expect more from you, Mr. Fangs Fogarty,” Lola Nora crossed her arms over her chest. 

“I will be better,” Fangs promised. “I’ll come upstairs when I come by to meet up with Sweet Pea.” 

Lola uncrossed her arms and put both palms on his cheeks. “I know you’re a good boy, Mr. Fangs Fogarty. You just need a reminder.” 

Betty stood silently in front of the coffee table with Jughead, holding his hand. She’d been around overbearing grandparents before, including her own, but none quite like Lola Nora. Before her eyes, Betty witnessed a little old lady with tan, wrinkled skin and gray hair haphazardly thrown up into a bun pretty much dismantle the switchblade-carrying core of teen Serpents. It didn’t make Betty uncomfortable, but rather, it put her in awe of the powerful presence such a small person could have. She was a bit worried about what would happen when it was her turn with Lola Nora. 

Jughead squeezed Betty’s hand reassuringly. She squeezed back but let go as it was Jughead’s turn to greet the matriarch. 

“Hello, Lola,” Jughead said amicably. 

Before she said anything to him, she enveloped Jughead in a hug much like the one she’d given to Toni. It lasted a few seconds before she asked, “How are you, Juggie?” 

Both Betty and Toni’s eyebrows threatened to become cartoon-like. _Juggie_ was a term of endearment only Betty and Archie (and occasionally Pop Tate) were permitted to use liberally. When Toni had called him that one time during his initiation week, leading up to the gauntlet, he’d looked so downright upset about it that she never dared utter it again. 

But Lola Nora, elderly and adorable as she was, set her own rules, and of course Jughead had to let it slide. 

“I’m well,” Jughead returned cordially. “Thank you for having me back for dinner.” 

Lola Nora practically giggled with glee. “I haven’t forgotten the last time! Remember what I said? You’re my new favorite.” 

“Well, I love eating.” Jughead pointed out. “And I’ve never had food like yours before.” 

Unlike Toni and Fangs, who’d grown up accustomed to Lola Nora’s style, Jughead had only been over to Sweet Pea’s house once before, a week after his initiation, when he was still the newest member of the gang. Lola Nora had insisted on cooking—because Sweet Pea had a new addition to his group—and she’d been impressed by the seemingly endless affinity of Jughead’s stomach. 

Despite growing up poor and parentless on the south side, Sweet Pea had experienced no shortage of food at Lola Nora’s. She often boasted that her grandson had reached such tall stature as a result of the home-cooked meals. It was only in the last few years that Sweet Pea stepped up—once he was old enough—to take care of himself and cook his own food. His grandmother was getting older and he didn’t think she needed to manage the store and their household all on her own. It meant Sweet Pea ate a lot of non-perishables and frozen meals that could be boiled on the stove in hot water, due to his own volition, not because Lola Nora was incapable and not because she didn’t offer. 

“Today I made extra just for you,” Lola Nora boasted to Jughead. 

“I appreciate that,” Jughead said humbly. “You shouldn’t have.” 

Lola Nora got up onto her tiptoes and tapped on the brim of his beanie. “Only the best for the crowned prince.” 

She shrugged emphatically and earned a short laugh from Jughead. He got Betty’s attention and she stepped up to join him. 

“Lola,” Jughead made the introduction, “this is Betty Cooper.” 

“Oh, my darling,” Lola Nora gasped, taking a hold of Betty’s hand. “You are so gorgeous. Just like your mom.” 

“You…” Betty stumbled with her words. “You know my mom?” 

“Of course,” the older woman replied. “She was friends with my Lynn – Marty’s mom.” 

Betty’s eyes widened as she looked to Sweet Pea, who was casually leaned against the threshold that separated the kitchen from the main living space of the apartment. He shrugged to indicate he hadn’t known either. 

“Oh, wow,” Betty said. 

Betty knew Alice Cooper had grown up on the south side of town. She’d even exposed her mother’s roots as a member of the Southside Serpents in _The Blue & Gold_. Her mother had qualified some of Betty’s friends’ parents whom she’d grown up with, Hermione Lodge and Mary Andrews, as ‘others’ and not among the _girls like us_. Apparently Betty’s kind and her mother’s kind was the kind responsible for bringing Sweet Pea into the world. 

If there was even the slightest ounce of reality to what her mother had said, her _us vs. them_ mentality, then Betty wondered if that was why she and Sweet Pea got along so well after an initially rocky start. Maybe, she thought, it was why Sweet Pea and Jughead, despite constantly butting heads and disagreeing over the approach of the Junior Serpent League, had a mutual respect for each other. They had in common the unfortunate, dire experience of being a teen with an absentee mother. 

“Anyway, that was a long time ago.” Lola Nora patted Betty’s hand a few times before she let go. “You’re here now, beautiful Betty Cooper. No wonder you captured the heart of handsome Juggie, huh?” 

Betty giggled and slipped her palm back into Jughead’s. “I guess I’m just lucky.” 

Jughead’s pupils instantly became heart-shaped. From his post, Sweet Pea rolled his eyes. 

“Marty told me you’re a great lab partner and you’re the one who convinced him to join the wrestling team, and because you have to know everything about everyone, your inquisitive nature makes you a good tutor—those were his exact words, that’s why he wanted to invite you today,” Lola Nora relayed to Betty, embarrassing Sweet Pea in one long-winded breath of a sentence. “Maybe…maybe you know a nice gal or guy you can introduce him to, someone he can get googly-eyed over? Maybe then he won’t be so crabby all the time.” 

“Lola!” Sweet Pea burst out with offense. 

Betty stifled her laughter and bit her lip to suppress her grin. It was a surprise even to Betty how much time she and Sweet Pea spent talking about the people who’d garnered their affection. She thought their friendship was similar to a bond shared between an older brother and younger sister. He was as close to being the older brother she wished she had, not the creepy stranger she’d brought home from the motel. Sweet Pea had made it very clear that he was firmly in the camp of those who wanted Betty and Jughead to get back together, a group—he joked—spearheaded by FP Jones and Pop Tate. 

The truth was that Sweet Pea and his crabbiness had been involved in Betty’s reunion with Jughead; he could only take so many of their miscues. Sweet Pea had orchestrated for Betty to show up to the Whyte Wyrm on the back of Jughead’s bike to play arcade games. She and Jughead got some much needed alone time to air out their grievances and Jughead got a chance to see how Betty fit into his world, not just hanging out with the Junior Serpent League, but absolutely schooling them all in the pinball competition. 

It spurned a return to their version of normal when it came time to investigate who stole General Pickens’ head after the events in the park on Pickens Day. They put up fliers and conducted interviews and dusted off the old murder board. 

And, oh, what a reunion it turned out to be. On the night of Veronica’s confirmation, after bringing Pickens’ head back, and voting to banish Tall Boy and Penny Peabody for putting the Serpents in hot water in the first place, Betty and Jughead ended up at the trailer. The tension between them had been palpable when Jughead tugged off his beanie and turned on the TV, not even bothering to switch to something else from the New York Rangers game on MSG, the last channel his father had watched earlier in the day. 

One thing led to another and it all boiled down to one thing Jughead asked of Betty: _stay_. They ended up sleeping with each other that night; their first time on the ugly couch that was as old as the trailer. It had been awkward and uncomfortable, and when Jughead showed up at Betty’s doorstep the next morning, he’d worried it hadn’t been enjoyable for her. But she assured him it was amazing—because it had been. The parts most amplified in her memory were the ones that made her feel sexy and whole and loved by Jughead; his palms driving her hips into his and guiding her down his length, the tickle of his breath against her collarbone as he panted, and the way she’d instinctively thrown her head back when he got her closer to her climax by rubbing circles against her most sensitive bundle of nerves. 

When Betty went home past curfew, she’d smiled at herself in the mirror of the Coopers’ foyer, thinking about the night they’d had. It was a surprise when she’d ventured into the kitchen and rather than grill her about why she was late, her mother had given her strict instructions to go up to her room because she’d accidentally spilled bleach all over the floor doing some routine cleaning. The entire main floor reeked and Alice didn’t want her daughter burning valuable brain cells by inhaling the fumes. Betty had rehearsed her excuse for being late all the way home but was equally happy not to test out the excuse on her mother. When Betty crawled into bed that night, she wrote an entry in her journal about what had transpired with Jughead. 

Betty was so thrilled they’d shared the experience of their first time together, the awkwardness and the new heights. There was no one else she would have rather been with. She and Jughead had been practically inseparable since that night. 

It had been a process to get there after all they’d put themselves through, individually and together, when they thought they’d been protecting each other. Sweet Pea’s tampering had been part of the process because Betty and Jughead had been on the upswing since her redemption song of pinball and air hockey at the Whyte Wyrm. 

“Trust me,” Betty offered to Lola Nora with a coy smile, “I’m working on it.” 

Sweet Pea turned and squeezed his eyes shut as he hit his head against the wall a few times at her response. The rest of the group whooped and hollered for the identity of Sweet Pea’s crush to be revealed but Betty didn’t offer anything else. 

Betty had every intention of returning the favor of tampering, all in good time. Sweet Pea went at his own pace and had yet to have a conversation of any value with Ethel. 

“Excellent!” Lola Nora clapped excitedly, even dancing in place briefly before she joked, “In that case, welcome to my home, Betty. You can call me ‘Lola’ and take a seat at my table now.” 

Betty flashed one of her brightest smiles at the older woman before she and Jughead moved to the dining area and took the empty seats next to Fangs. 

Lola Nora and Sweet Pea were the last ones to the table. Sweet Pea’s grandmother insisted she could carry the last dish from the kitchen to the table and for Sweet Pea to take his seat. Like the respectful grandson she thought he was, Sweet Pea took the free chair beside Toni and sat slightly hunched over. He was wary about his lola carrying heavy objects, even if it was just a few strides. It was bad enough she insisted on making a fuss over his birthday and cooking for his hoodlum friends (and Betty)—he didn’t want her to injure herself over his birthday, too. 

“Okay, here we go,” Lola Nora said as she set a large porcelain bowl of pork _adobo_ in front of Sweet Pea. Fresh from the stovetop, steam rose up into the air from the contents of the bowl. “I made your favorite.” 

She took off the oven mitt she’d put on to carry the bowl over and reached for Sweet Pea’s face, landing a big kiss smack dab on the apple of his cheek. “Happy Birthday, Sweet Pea!” 

Sweet Pea slid his chair back so he could wrap his tiny grandmother—basically his mother, since she’d practically raised him on her own—in a gratuitous embrace. “Thank you for everything, Lola.” 

Toni locked eyes with Fangs and moved her hand over her heart as if to point out how warm and fuzzy their grandmother-grandson dynamic made her feel. Betty waited until their heartfelt moment was over before she asked, “So…wait…you call him Sweet Pea, too?” 

Fangs snickered but Betty didn’t mind if he’d done it at her. She didn’t know much about Sweet Pea’s family history, and had just found out their mothers had known each other, so Betty was genuinely curious. 

“Oh, honey,” Lola Nora spoke with a twinkle in her eye, “who do you think gave him that nickname?” 

“Really?” Betty said in awe. “That wasn’t any of the Serpents? It was you?” 

“They heard it from me,” Lola Nora confirmed as she mussed at Sweet Pea’s hair, “because he’s my Sweet Pea.” 

Betty was so intrigued by the true source of Sweet Pea’s name. She’d had several theories—most involving him being called his name by some figure of authority sarcastically—that had all been debunked in one fell swoop. 

“Okay, okay,” Lola Nora said as she finally took her rightful spot at the table. “Let’s eat.” 

It was in between bites of _lumpia_ and _pancit_ that Betty was schooled about the south side of town. It wasn’t necessarily because of the topic of discussion or the way anyone spoke about them. It was being there and getting to experience it for herself. Crossing the train tracks to see Jughead at Sunnyside Trailer Park or stepping inside the Whyte Wyrm was different than really venturing deeper into the south side. She thought it was important not just for her blossoming friendship with Sweet Pea, but for herself, too, to gain a more thorough understanding of what it was she wrote about and defended that had gotten her called _Serpent Slut_. 

While enjoying a meal with the teen Serpents and a pillar of the community, she saw similarities to the supposedly picture perfect image of life on the north side of town, not differences—they just painted with aerosol paint cans instead of watercolors on the south side. So the south side was dirty and half the street lights didn’t work and the SoDale construction project had turned the community to shambles. But that was all cosmetic. The problems on the south side of town were in-your-face glaringly obvious instead of swept under the rug. There was no façade. 

Betty saw Sweet Pea’s family—of his grandma and of his friends—and though it wasn’t traditional, that didn’t mean it was dysfunctional. And she knew they weren’t just the hoodlums northsiders wanted to categorize them as. Lola Nora was respected because she was loving. Sweet Pea had radical ideas and violent tendencies, sure, but star student and model citizen Betty Cooper had a place in the depths of her mind that desired the power of ruthlessness, too. 

So she, of the north side, and he, of the south side, weren’t all that different at all. It was just like she’d said during her speech at the Jubilee in the fall. They were all Riverdale, Lola Nora and Sweet Pea included. Reaching her conclusion in the middle of consuming baked cassava cake, engaged in the good vibes of present company, Betty was even more proud of her defense of the south side. It had made her unpopular with her classmates and put _The Blue & Gold_ in hot water with Principal Weatherbee; the fallout was as ugly as her mother had warned her it would be. But she knew with every fiber of her being, from the swoop of her ponytail down to her toes, that defending the community of the south side, and continuing to defend them, was the right thing to do. 

When Sweet Pea’s special birthday lunch winded down and his friends moved to the couch while Lola Nora sunk back into her old reclining chair, it was time for Betty and Sweet Pea to head to the library to lead their tutoring groups comprised mainly of kids from the south side. Jughead was still popping pieces of _kutsinta_ in his mouth when Betty leaned in to bid him farewell for a few hours. Betty and Sweet Pea were off the hook because they had to get to tutoring, but the rest of the core teen Serpents were obliged to stay for _halo-halo_ and then tea with _ensaymada_ after that. Lola Nora didn’t mess around when it came to her dessert spread. 

“See you later?” Betty asked Jughead. “My mom and Chic are going to get the rest of his stuff and my dad has practically moved out anyway.” 

Jughead wiped his mouth clean of grated coconut with the back of his hand. “Hmm,” he mused, “maybe I’ll come through the window just to be on the safe side.” 

Betty squeezed his hand and even blushed a little, thrilled at the thought of Jughead sneaking into her room again, with much clearer intentions than the time he’d called her _Juliet_. 

“I’ll burn the midnight oil all night for you,” she whispered. 

It was Jughead’s turn to blush and he was glad his beanie covered the tips of his ears. They felt hot so he could only imagine they were as pink as one of Betty’s jewel-collared sweaters. 

“So listen,” Jughead changed the subject instead, “take care of Sweet Pea on the walk through the north side to the library, okay?” 

“I’m all over it,” Betty promised. 

After they kissed goodbye, Betty giggled at the texture she felt on her lips. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and it tasted sweet—the residue of powdered sugar from the desserts Jughead ate had transferred when they kissed. Betty gave Jughead a kiss on the cheek for good measure and bounced out of the apartment on Sweet Pea’s arm, her blonde ponytail swishing back and forth as she went. 

Jughead looked after them with a soft smile on his face. He could admit that watching Betty and Sweet Pea become friends had made him insecure about his place in Betty’s life and with the Serpents. But he no longer had to choose between them unsure of whose direction he should follow because they were, both literally and figuratively, moving in the same direction. 

The night of Veronica’s confirmation had changed things. The intimacy he shared with Betty bled into their relationship after the fact. Finally back together, they were entirely committed to each other and determined to communicate and stay on the same page. Like a reminder, every waking moment around each other involved physical contact, whether it was knees touching or a graze of an elbow or a hand on a shoulder. Jughead had been more of an initiator—which gave Betty butterflies in her stomach—since their night in the trailer; it was nothing new on Betty’s part since she’d always been a touchy-feely person. 

Sweet Pea was someone who did not appreciate that facet of Betty’s personality. Her kiss on his cheek might have made him blush once, but they hadn’t even made it a block from his grandmother’s apartment before he withdrew his arm from hers. 

“You’re crowding me, Coop,” he complained. 

“Jughead told me to keep an eye on you,” Betty returned, moving her hands into her coat pockets but not moving from Sweet Pea’s side. “Especially once we get past Pop’s.” 

The library might’ve been considered neutral territory in Riverdale’s ongoing civil war, but they had to get there first. Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe was the only true neutral establishment in town, nestled at the juncture of land at the train tracks that divided north and south. 

“What, he thinks I could run into a pack of Riverdale rich kids on some clean street monitored by the Neighborhood Watch?” Sweet Pea scoffed. “Yeah, I could be _bored_ to death.” 

Sweet Pea had been a witness to Betty’s intense sense of loyalty and knew of her capability for brutality. Truth be told, she was exactly the northsider he wanted to have his back in anything related to the town’s civil war. 

“Well…I mean…” Betty said cautiously and half-seriously, “we do have to pass Dilton Doiley’s house en route to the library.” 

“Damn.” Sweet Pea swung his arm and snapped his fingers in mock-disappointment. “I forgot my beaker and detonators in my other backpack.” 

Betty chuckled at him with the click of her tongue before she sighed into her next statement. “Listen, Sweet Pea, I’m sorry I asked you so many questions before, early on when we became lab partners – all those personal questions.” 

Sweet Pea shrugged just like he had on the first day of Chemistry when they’d been assigned partners, when Betty was surprised by his acumen, when she had no idea she’d later corner him into becoming a science tutor. “It’s not a big deal, Coop.” 

“It _is_. It is to me,” Betty insisted. “I had no right. Your grandma is an incredible woman. And clearly you have the family you need with Fangs and Toni. Even Jug.” 

Betty didn’t know if family was a touchy subject for Sweet Pea, whose parents weren’t around. How could she have known when she’d begun attacking him with questions to get to know him from the get go rather than letting him reveal what he wanted at his own discretion? 

“And you,” Sweet Pea added. 

“ _Me_?” 

“I think of you and Jughead as a package deal,” Sweet Pea said honestly. 

“Oh,” Betty replied with wide eyes. “Well, Sweet Pea, I’m honored.” 

Sweet Pea nodded shortly. “Anyway, it’s fine…your questions before, I mean. I guess you wouldn’t be a very good investigative journalist if you didn’t feel the need to know everything about everyone, right?” 

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Betty said merrily, “because my next question is this: when are we going to do something about the whole heart-eyes-for-Ethel situation? You’ve barely even said a few full sentences to her since you started tutoring with us.” 

“ _Wow_.” Sweet Pea didn’t hide his exasperation. “You went from humble to annoying real quick there, Coop.” 

When Betty and Sweet Pea reached the library, Ethel was already standing at the top of the landing in front of the double doors. She had a small stack of math workbooks tucked under one of her arms for her students. She spotted her fellow tutors as they approached and the big wave and pearly-white smile she sent them put Sweet Pea’s stomach into knots. 

“I am what I am, just like you,” Betty told Sweet Pea as they both waved back. “I think Ethel would like you for exactly who you are. But you’re going to have to let her see you first.” 

Sweet Pea gulped down the frog in his throat when he and Betty ascended the stairs in silence, both of them with their hands looped into the straps of their backpacks. He felt more nervous with each step as Ethel’s red hair bow and the freckles on her forehead came into focus. 

He took a leap of faith on his friendship with Betty and took her unsolicited advice when they reached the landing. 

“Hey, Ethel,” Sweet Pea greeted for the very first time. 

**_Fin._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the ending suggests, there will be a follow-up story, and it will be SweetE centric!
> 
> [Extended Chapter Notes](http://jerepars.tumblr.com/post/172991578840/know-who-you-are-extended-chapter-notes) are on tumblr, where I’m [@jerepars](http://jerepars.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thank you for reading! Your feedback is always appreciated. <3


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